I keep saying, year after year, that this is the summer that I finally see the Beach Boys (before it's too late). It's eighty degrees, and the Beach Men are out there, tirelessly touring the globe, doing whatever the hell it is they do. And to all you purists, all I gotta say is: A Beach Boy and a half is better than none. This is not a debatable point. This is fact.
The bulldozed origins of the Wilson clan have recently been memorialized in suburban Hawthorne, CA. In the shadow of Freeway 405, sits a bronze tribute to those Wilson kids, their nutty cousin, and that next door neighbor guy. And that other next door neighbor guy. That's right–awkwardly enough, the 3-D base relief plaque sports six prospective Beach Men crowding the board. Think Beatles statue with Pete Best. Except they're all trying to hold the same surfboard. The text below the sculpture is appropriately cheesy and turgid. I've found that it helps if you read it out loud like Criswell.
Seemingly, non-feuding and non-litigious Beach Guys Brian Wilson and Al Jardine (or as my pal Wendy likes to call him, "Al Sardine") dropped by their former hood on unveiling day and belted out a couple oldies. (Anybody tape that?) David Marks also made the scene (he 's the bonus Beach Guy in the stunt Al Sardine spot). One of the one and a half of the legitimate remaining Beach Men checked in with UPI:
"Mike Love... turned down an invitation to the dedication. He told an interviewer he was too busy making a living."
I don't care what you say. I like Mike. Same way I like Ike.
A few weeks later, the humble plaque got tagged but good. The idea of twenty-four hour police surveillance has been bandied about, so you'd better plan your vacation soon. Directions to this mecca of dysfunctional surf can be found here. Spray paint (with I.D.) can be found here.